


Movie Night

by MadladSunny



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Get your head in the game Crowley-this is your husband, Other, PTSD, Peeling onions because Michael Sheen needs an award, Titanic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22727446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadladSunny/pseuds/MadladSunny
Summary: Don’t muddy up an angel’s movie night-or you end up with having to deal with emotions.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 10





	Movie Night

Two otherworldly beings were both very uncomfortably set in the back of a cluttered bookshop. One demon was regretting all of his 6000 years, and one angel was about to have a dreadful memory acted out right in front of him.   
~  
Today had no exceptions for customers-if only they understood the importance of movie night.   
The demon Crowley had the job of fetching a film, like every Friday night. The angel Aziraphale took care of the meal (which could go from something as simple as buttered popcorn to a rather delicate display of Bordeaux blend accompanied with penne).   
The angel was wriggling with anticipation as he shoved a rather messy rack of ‘chocolate chip cookies’ in the oven.   
The last movie night was so very romantic! Crowley had picked “Sleepless in Seattle”, and they had both been ‘close’ to tears-Crowley was lucky to have his shades on him.   
Once the credits started to roll... the angel tried for a simple gesture. He squeezed Crowley’s hand lightly, looking him in the eyes. The demon’s glasses might have “miraculously” slid off in the moment, but there was subtle heat in the air.  
Some part of the oven made a POP! Aziraphale sighed, ready to give up. No!-He thought-these blasted cookies will be perfect for tonight!! No miracles needed!

~

Crowley hasn’t brought a pair of glasses tonight. He could always miracle a pair if things got dicey with the waterworks. But he had a feeling about the movie he snatched... quite literally, he stole the last copy of “Titanic” from the shop. He has to keep at least a trace of demonic energy with him.   
The demon had heard of Leonardo’s stunning performance, but he was down for it with Kathy Bates. Besides, it was a romance, right? The angel loves romance!  
You see... Crowley was hammered at the time. His clouded brain just couldn’t handle the simple rule of “No depressing historical films”-which he made up himself!  
That feeling that courses through him was udder dread.   
He had come into the bookshop still a bit tipsy. He sat down listening to his angel fuss in the kitchen. “Crowley dear, I’ll be with you promptly. Just need to peel this... onion.”. 

Onion? But It smells like something’s baking. He decided to sober up, which took some effort. The angel could feel that bit of force being used, he frowned, “Crowley-have you been drinking without me?!”. Crowley grimaced at the sour taste settling on his tongue. “Jus’ a bit!” he shouted back.   
His fuzzy memory came back crystal clear. He didn’t?! Crowley yanked out the DVD case-HE DID!!! 

“Shit!” 

“Pardon?”

“Nothing angel!”, he couldn’t miracle it into something else-Aziraphale would sense it and his cover would be blown!  
The RMS Titanic sunk in 1912-Aziraphale must have been busy with something! Robert F. Scott’s exploration-The Radio Act-Woodrow Wilson-THE FIRST NEON SIGN!!!! Bloody anything! Please not-

“The Titanic?” Aziraphale asked in a somber tone. A tone that was used at a mass funeral-a tone so full of condolences and grief. A tone that was not suited for an angel.  
“Aziraphale-I’m so sorry-I wasn’t thinking! I-“

“No... you were not thinking.”  
Crowley felt his insides burn to a crisp-his heart dried up to dust. He couldn’t look at the angel, sensing his cold blue eyes that could smite him with a glare.

“Put it on then.”  
Without any miracles-time seemed to stop.

“Wha?” Crowley looked up to Aziraphale’s chest. The angel had a floured tartan apron on, which made it a smidge less scary to face.

“I will not repeat myself Crowley.”

Crowley’s mouth went dry-there was no point in arguing. He fumbled with the disk before sliding it into the DVD player. Before pressing play he gave a final pleading look in Aziraphale’s general direction. He had taken his apron off.  
Crowley shrunk into the corner of the sofa and whimpered. 

He pressed play.

Aziraphale sat down at the other end of the sofa, a stone cold look directed at the screen sent shivers up Crowley’s spine. 

A yellowed clip of passengers waving goodbye to their loved ones fades in-then out. 

Crowley sobs. The television is miracled off by Aziraphale before the title of the movie can appear.

Aziraphale moves to Crowley and embraces him in a bear-hug. It’s tight and warm~almost feeling like a trap. But Crowley can’t deny how nice it feels to be in his angel’s arms. The world feels a little kinder.

DING!

“Oh! Cookies are done!”

“Those are cookies you’ve been baking?!”

And Crowley learns the hard way to not muddy up an angel’s movie night.  
◦

**Author's Note:**

> I need to go to bed~comment below any tips or suggestions


End file.
